Not a Morning Person
by Words of Heresy
Summary: Thorin is not a morning person. Thranduil takes it all in stride. Thorin/ Thranduil SLASH


A/N: Based on this prompt from the Hobbit Kink Meme :)

Prompt: Thorin is not a morning person, Thranduil is amused to discover. He refuses to get up, and when he finally does he's cranky and basically useless at getting himself ready. If you catch him early enough, he'll even start leaning on/draping himself over anyone in the vicinity in an attempt to get comfy enough to go back to sleep, even Thranduil

+bonus: this takes place in an everyone lives!au

+bonus2: Thorin still technically hates Thranduil while he's falling asleep on him

Enjoy :)

* * *

The morning light skipped through the small, round window in the royal bedroom. It caught the jewels in the chandelier and reflected a golden beam to rest gently on Thranduil's face. The elf stirred lazily beneath the heavy, feather-down duvet and placed the back of one hand over his eyes. He took a moment to allow his senses to awaken, before throwing his arms over his head and letting his body arch in a full body stretch. A moan broke past his slightly parted lips.

Taking a moment to watch the intricate play of light on the bejeweled chandelier, the elf sat up and threw his legs over the side. He used his feet to find his silk slippers. Easily sliding them through the fabric. He got up and made his way to the washroom. Quickly he stripped of his silk robe and stepped under the natural waterfall. He bit his bottom lip to hold in a gasp. The mountain springs were frigid in the warmest months, and it being the end of autumn only made it worse.

He washed his hair, and rinsed himself, jumping out onto a floor rug and grabbing the closest towel off the rack. He dried and rubbed his hair until it was manageable enough to brush. Taming the silver locks with a soft-toothed comb, Thranduil wove a couple of simple braids at the front to hold back his bangs. When he was done he walked to the wardrobe and selected a robe, quickly slipping it over his head. Once he was dressed he exchanged his slippers for a pair of fine, woven sandals and took one final look in his full-length mirror.

'Well,' he thinks, 'it is time.'

* * *

The King's room was bright and airy. The morning light had long since travelled across the room and lit the magnificent chamber from within like a lantern. The dwarf however was unaware, having placed his pillow over his head at the first disturbance of light.

Thranduil noted how the pillow shook with every suppressed snore. Trying to hide a giggle behind a formal cough, the elf slipped inside and quietly shut the door behind him.

"Your highness?" he asked but the dwarf didn't stir. Walking closer he tried again. "Thorin."

What would have certainly thrown the dwarf into a tirade about the improper use of his name; now simply fell on deaf ears.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, you wake up this instant," admonished the elf, like one might a difficult child. He took a seat on the side of the bed and attempted to lift the pillow from over his head. 'By Valar,' he thinks, 'I never have this much trouble with Fili or Kili.'

"Bugger of you bloody elf, I ain't getting up" growled Thorin, and Thranduil was barely able to make out his words from underneath the pillow.

"Yes you are dwarf," argued the elf, his tone taking on a cheerful quality, "or have you forgotten what day it is? I implore you to rise and get ready, we are expected in less then an hour and…"

He paused at the sound of another snore and sighed in resignation. 'Dwarfs' he thinks. He placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder and gave it firm shake.

"_Mhhhmmh_," moaned the dwarf.

"No excuses," the elf said firmly and used both hands to jerk the pillow from over the dwarf's head. The sudden burst of light in his vision made Thorin growl like a disgruntled pup. "Get up now," Thranduil threw the pillow across the room, and rose from the bed. "I will be back in fifteen minutes to collect you, and by Valar you had better be prim and ready, or so help me Thorin," he warned, walking around the bed and pulling the blanket to the floor, "I will drag you to the throne room in your under wear."

He walked from the room feeling the dwarfs heated gaze on him all the way to the door.

* * *

The delegates had arrived timely, with gifts and acts of homage to grace the newly appointed monarch before his coronation. The soon to be King under the Mountain, was seated upon his throne, watching the precession from beneath heavily hooded lids. Occasionally he would lift a fist to stifle a bout of yawning before once more attempting to stay awake. Thranduil, who was standing of to one side of him, being a king of a neighboring kingdom, bit at the inside of his cheek to contain a grin.

* * *

It was an old dwarfish tradition, for a newly appointed king to hold a breakfast banquet before his coronation. It was also tradition for said king to stand before the entrance to the dining hall and greet his guests as they passed through the doors to take their seats.

Thorin was flanked, on both sides, by the representatives of the neighboring kingdoms; as per tradition. To his left stood Thranduil and to his right stood Bard the recently crowned King of Dale. The cheerful man was doing enough greeting for all of them and Thorin, never being one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, began to doze on his feet.

Thranduil failed to notice any disparity in the dwarf's behavior until he felt a thump against his side. Looking down, he was unable to hold in his laughter at the sight of the dwarf king, leaning against him, head pillowed on the fabric of his robes. He thought to wake the other but hadn't the heart when Thorin made a soft snuffling sound and buried his face in the elf's tunic.

* * *

"For the last time elf, I didn't fall asleep on my feet!"

"And I insist that you did, Thorin, son of Thrain. In fact if I am not mistaken," continued the gleeful elf, "there is still a wet patch on the side of my robe, from where you drooled a little."

"Lies," roared the king, and had all the nearby guests halting their conversation to throw the dwarf king a cautious glance.

"I speak the truth Thorin", said the elf. "How can you deny your state of exhaustion when even now you threaten to nod off?"

"I will not, you bloody tree-shagging ponce," growled the dwarf; "and for your information I was otherwise occupied last night," he bragged, "attempting to keep two, fine, lasses in good company." He threw the Elvenking a cool glare that held more then a trace of smugness. Thranduil rolled his eyes and drew from his goblet of wine.

"Yes your highness," he finally said after taking a generous swallow, "I was privy to your activities last night, since their rambunctious nature kept me up till well past the midnight hour."

Thorin smirked and leaned over to whisper suggestively in the elf's ear.

"Jealous?"

"You flatter yourself," he said coolly.

"Do I? Did the tune of the bed springs not intrigue your majesty's curiosity?" whispered the dwarf. Thranduil snorted dismissively.

"Pity, I was hopping to invite you to share my quarters tonight, but if…"

"Eat your food Thorin," interrupted the elf and made quick work of shoving a bread roll into the dwarf's mouth.

* * *

"When did he fall asleep?"

Thranduil looked up at Bard and shot a sideways glance at the dwarf king whose head lay pillowed on his shoulder.

"Not long after goading me with tales of his accomplishments in the bed chamber."

"Last night?"

Thranduil nodded, and turned his face to burry his nose in the tangled locks, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of the dwarf's head.

"You do realize those were Bombur's girl's, Bree and Bray?" said Bard, frowning at the elf. "Apparently their mother and father, along with the rest of the brood left for the shire, a week earlier, and left them in charge of the shop," he said. "To attend Bilbo and Bofur's wedding, I believe. So last night they got scared at being home alone and snuck into Thorin's room, so he would tell them stories."

"I know," said the elf into Thorin's hair, nuzzling the curls from side to side. "I heard him screaming at them to stop jumping on the bed and then telling them that story about the Trolls. When they fell asleep I remember hearing him take them back to their rooms. My night guard informed me that Thorin consulted with him on how best to manage the transportation, and decided to take the girls one at a time, so as not to jostle them too much." The elf smiled at the thought of his dwarf being so uncharacteristically tender.

"So why didn't you tell him?" Bard looked confused.

"He was spinning such a wonderful story, I wanted to save him his pride," said the elf and turned to smirk at the man. "After all, why stir the pot when things are finally starting to settle between us."

"A fair point," conceded the bowman and nodded at the elf, "I best be going to the throne room. Still an hour before the ceremony, might as well help the lads out with the finishing."

The elf nodded and watched him leave. When he was gone he looked around the empty dinning hall and turned to press another tender kiss to Thorin's hair.

* * *

**R&R**


End file.
